


Art Class

by hypnoshatesme



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gerry is pissed but also finds it hot, Michael's being its usual Spiral bs self, Other, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27206120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: Michael decides to pay Gerry a visit during class.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	Art Class

**Author's Note:**

> Art class was the prompt for today and it just seemed fitting.

The classes had started as an attempt to break up Gerry’s routine. Every day was the same. Go to the Institute, follow the leads to retrieve the book or artefact, get hurt while doing so, come home to heal only to probably get hurt again days later. And, in a sense, it really wasn’t too different from how his life had looked before the Institute had been a part of it, when Mary had still been alive and he had been hunting down books for her. Gerry was used to the endless cycle and, frankly, tried not to think about it too much.

That was until Michael made him.

“Don’t you find it maddening?” it had said on yet another occasion it had just shown up in Gerry’s apartment. 

It had started months ago, with a yellow door never far from Gerry’s peripheral vision no matter where he went. Eventually, it had shown its face, too, though it generally didn’t do much more than the door before had. 

At least not usually. There had been some...exceptions to it simply existing around and occasionally talking to Gerry, or actively annoying him with its Spiral bullshit by twisting his possessions or fucking with his surroundings. But those exceptions generally included a lot of physical activity. And that day Gerry had been feeling far too sore from having a rather unpleasant run-in with the Hunt. He had cleaned up and settled on the couch with whatever cheap alcohol he had grabbed and he did not plan to move anytime soon. 

He had looked towards where it was perching on the other end of the sofa. “What's maddening? You?” He made a show of holding its gaze with a poker face, despite it really making him feel like his head might combust. Michael wasn’t the only one who could tease and poke. “Clearly not as much as you’d like.”

Michael’s head tilted in a decidedly not-cute way. “No, not me. You.”

“Me?” The confusion in his voice made Michael’s eyes brighten. Gerry bit back his scowl.

“Your life. How long has it been the same?” It’s voice was fracturing as it spoke, like it was having trouble keeping all the layers together. “You know, it’s what drives some people insane.”

Gerry raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I should be taking mental health advice from an entity of madness.”

Michael simply grinned at him, showing rows and rows of pointy teeth that made Gerry reconsider whether he really didn’t want to move from his spot. The sane reaction would have probably been to move away from them, but the pull Gerry felt was, as usual, towards it. He decided not to think about what that meant.

And failed. Gerry would have loved to say that what Michael had said didn't really affect him, not beyond mild irritation. He would be lying. 

How to know you are losing your mind? Could you know that in the process? Gerry didn't _ feel _ like he was, but what did that mean? Wasn't letting an entity of madness hang out around him, talk with him, occasionally fuck him, a little mad? Wasn’t he crazy for throwing out all caution whenever it was close enough to touch, for turning his back to it mid-conversation as if it couldn’t stab him as soon as he did that?

Maybe Michael had a point. Gerry did not like the idea of it, and so he decided to look into something new to do, to break up his samey days. Art class simply had seemed like a fitting choice considering it was already something he was interested in. He had always considered trying out other mediums or just in general doing something a bit different, but always fell back into old habits when he did sit down to draw. Maybe class would help with that.

He had only had a couple lessons, not really enough to tell whether he was really enjoying it, but he did appreciate the novelty of it, the mundanity of sitting in a room with a couple of perfectly normal people and following instructions of a teacher who seemed overly excited about everything they talked about. It could be a lot, but it was also charming, in a way.

When Gerry looked up from his seat today, he did not see his teacher entering the room, a couple minutes late. He saw Michael.

Gerry watched, tense, as Michael approached the desk in the front. A quick glance around him made it clear that none of the other people in the room were seeing anything amiss. One or two were furrowing their brows, but their smiles were ones of recognition.

Michael did not acknowledge him, and, in fact, did not speak as it faced the class with its wide grin. It wasn’t even bothering with looking overly human. Gerry’s grip around the pen he had been holding - when had he picked it up? - tightened as the people around him started to move, pens brought to paper in what looked like a more mechanical movement than what Gerry was used to seeing from half of these people. He grit his teeth as Michael started walking around, looking at the confusing patterns everybody was drawing with expressions from empty to mildly confused.

“Michael…” his tone was a warning, though Gerry wasn’t quite sure there was a whole lot behind it.

“Yes?” its voice made Gerry’s brain vibrate in his skull and when he looked to the side, sure enough, the person sitting next to him had blood dripping from her nose. Gerry grit his teeth, glowering up at Michael’s face that had taken on a very punchable expression. He gripped the pen tighter. He’d have to wait until the others were out.

Michael returned to its desk after holding Gerry’s gaze for a moment. Gerry spent the lesson trying to keep an eye on everything around him and, most importantly, Michael.

Gerry waited until the last person left the room before making his way towards Michael with quick, irritated steps. He should really be used to it being a nuisance. He  _ was _ , but Michael had never gotten other people involved into its schemes to annoy Gerry. Gerry had been stupid to assume it never would.

Gerry knew that he was probably unreasonably angry when he came to a stop in front of Michael and pulled it down to his eye level by the front of its shirt. Michael looked satisfied, which didn’t help. Gerry knew that most of his anger was directed at himself for letting it come to this in the first place.

He tried to swallow the anger when he asked, “Where is the teacher?” 

Michael pursed its lips. “They just...forgot about today.”

The sound of its voice, intensely amused, was making Gerry’s skin tingle. His anger ebbed, leaving him with the irritation he had felt throughout the whole lesson. He was pissed, but it wasn’t like he could make it un-happen. He needed to keep his wits about.

“Why? What was the point of this?” 

It had spent all the time just watching. Gerry had at least expected it to  _ do _ something. Then again, it had succeeded in pissing him off passively, he guessed. 

Michael leaned closer until they were nearly nose to nose, and purred, “You missed me.”

Gerry sighed, blush creeping into his cheeks. He wished he could blame that on anger, but Gerry had never been one to flush from fury. “I’ll  _ kill _ you.”

It tilted its head slightly, eyes glinting mischievously. “You’re closer to  _ kissing  _ me right now.”

Michael was right, and Gerry was having trouble staying on track with the conversation, as usual. He closed the gap with a little more force than necessary and Michael returned the kiss equally. 

Having Michael’s tongue slide into his mouth, surprisingly, did not help with keeping track of conversation or surroundings, not with how it twisted around his in a distinctly unnatural way. It made his head spin and body tingle in memory and anticipation and by the time Michael’s fingers were snaking their way underneath Gerry’s shirt, Gerry had forgotten where they were, body pressed flush against Michael’s, pinning it to the desk his hands fisted in its hair.

Gerry was out of breath when they pulled apart, whirring mind starting to settle slowly. He blinked against the bright lights a couple times, disoriented about how they were far brighter than they should be. He wasn't at home, of course. Class. Michael in front of him. Michael should not be in the classroom. The irritation resurfaced, although somewhat dampened by the lingering haze Michael’s kisses always left him with, by the feeling of its fingers on his back and their bodies still close, still touching.

"Don't do this again." He said, seriously.

Michael leaned in again, lips lingering on Gerry’s for a moment before it pulled away and mumbled, "Why not? It's going rather well for me."

He felt Michael’s fingers follow the line of his spine, electrifying. It was really difficult to keep up with the conversation. Gerry didn’t particularly  _ want _ to talk right now. There were more important things to do.

"Let's get out of here."

The yellow door was already waiting.


End file.
